Confinement
by NotAContrivance
Summary: Sarah and James in an unpleasant situation... also known as JAIL!
1. A Visit with Henri

This is a Liberty's Kids fanfic. Don't get me started on how stupid the name is. But it has a cool theme song! I promised myself that I'd put this here if there were no new or updated LK fics here. This is weird. See, I've been watching the show lately.  
  
I used to read fics like this even though I had no idea what they looked like or anything about the show...*cracks up* Anyways, here's mine. It's.odd. I mean, look at how it starts. OOH! Review! Please? *pouts* I REALLY like reviews...  
  
Sarah glared at James.  
  
"Only you could land us in prison, James Hiller!" Sarah said shrilly.  
  
James shrugged, lying down on the straw in their prison cell.  
  
"You're still going on about that, Sarah? We've been here for a week," James muttered.  
  
Sara glared viciously at him.  
  
"We were in a British camp. You just had to yell Die, redcoats, die, didn't you?" Sarah snapped.  
  
James smirked and looked at the ceiling.  
  
"I don't care. It was one of the best things I ever did," James said gleefully.  
  
Sarah rolled her eyes.  
  
"It was a stupid immature thing to do and you landed both of us in prison for it!" Sarah shrieked.  
  
James sat up and was about to speak. Sarah held up a finger to stop him and continued pacing.  
  
"I haven't taken a bath in days. I just want to go home!" Sarah said, breaking into hysterics.  
  
Their hair was now dull and they were both filthy. James bit his lip and cautiously approached the sobbing girl. He sat next to her on the floor and hesitantly put an arm around her shoulder.  
  
"Look, Sarah, I'm sorry. I never meant to make you cry. Or land us in jail. We'll get out somehow," James comforted awkwardly.  
  
Sarah looked up at him and wiped her eyes. She implusively hugged him and James awkwardly hugged her back. He broke the hug and stood up. She too stood up and stared longingly at the window.  
  
"How, may I ask, are we going to get out of here?" Sarah replied after a moment.  
  
James smirked.  
  
"You could offer one of the guards your "services". That could work," James replied cockily.  
  
Sarah rolled her eyes.  
  
"I have morals, you know," Sarah hissed.  
  
James smiled, making a picture in the air.  
  
"But think of the story you could write. "I pleasured a British soldier and lived to tell the tale!" It'd get tons of reactions," James replied excitedly.  
  
Sarah glared at James.  
  
"I'm not some hussy. Goodness!" Sarah exclaimed.  
  
James smirked. The guard peered into their cell again.  
  
"Hey! Prisoners! Silence!" The bulky man yelled.  
  
Sarah jumped and James rolled his eyes. The man slid a bowl of gruel and a cup of water towards them on a tray. There was a single spoon on the plate. The two looked curiously at each other, shrugged, and shared the spoon.  
  
They were just about to fall asleep.  
  
"You can take the straw. I'll sleep on the nice, comfy stone," James said gallantly.  
  
Sarah shook her head.  
  
"I couldn't," Sarah argued.  
  
James gave her a look.  
  
"You're the girl. Take it!" James resulted.  
  
Sarah opened her mouth to argue, but stopped herself.  
  
"I have a better idea," Sarah said smugly.  
  
James frowned.  
  
"What is it?" James grunted.  
  
Sarah looked towards the bed.  
  
"We can share it. It is big enough," Sarah replied calmly.  
  
James nodded.  
  
"You okay with that?" James asked.  
  
Sarah nodded. James shrugged.  
  
"You get on the side by the wall. That way I can protect you in case any of the guards try and pull something," James mumbled.  
  
Sarah looked up at him.  
  
"That's so noble of you, James," Sarah replied, stunned.  
  
James smiled.  
  
"It was nothing," James said quietly.  
  
The two sunk into the straw and were drifting off to sleep when they heard a voice. It was Henri.  
  
"Sarah? James? Is that you?" Henri asked, French accent thick as ever.  
  
James moaned and Sarah sat up. Their eyes were wide.  
  
"Henri? What are you doing here?" Sarah asked tiredly.  
  
Henri looked down at them and waved.  
  
"Bonjour!" Henri said cheerfully. James rolled his eyes.  
  
"Moses was worried when you did not arrive back. He thought you had...What word did he use? Eloped! What does that mean, anyways? I found you," Henri rambled, accent thickening.  
  
Sarah and James frowned. James scratched his head.  
  
"Why on Earth would we get married? I can hardly stand this Tory," James pondered.  
  
Henri gave him an odd look and Sarah hit James.  
  
"Well, we were hiding in the bushes of a British camp. James here thought that it'd be a bright idea to yell at them and we were captured," Sarah replied, annoyed.  
  
Henri nodded.  
  
"Oui! I'll go back and tell Moses that you are alive. And have not eloped. Whatever that is. We'll get you out," Henri said joyfully.  
  
Henri then ran away. James and Sarah sighed, sinking into the straw and falling asleep.  
  
- Loren ;* 


	2. The Paling Guard

I don't own Liberty's Kids. Duh. I do own Charity Williams though. And this chapter is pretty darn short. But it's still good. *laughs evilly* And if you're reading this, go out and write one of your own. I also happen to love reviews...  
  
They were awoken unpleasantly, by a clanging of bars in their cell. They were wrapped up in each other, quite literally. However, the noise jolted them awake and they bolted up before the guard beat them. The guard took a look at the two, who looked foolish, with straw on their clothes and hair, dirt on their faces. He smirked.  
  
"Looks like you two had a little fun last night," The guard sneered.  
  
Sarah crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at the tall man. James shot Sarah a look and she shook her head. The guard merely raised his eyebrows. Sarah turned to face him.  
  
"Sir, I am a free citizen and I have rights. I demand to speak to someone," Sarah addressed the guard.  
  
James rolled his eyes. The guard spit at Sarah's feet.  
  
"Lady, you have no rights here," The guard replied.  
  
Sarah grit her teeth.  
  
"I am a British citizen living in America, just like you. I am not only that, but a lady. And my mother is Lady Phillips," Sarah responded, with an air of authority.  
  
The guard paled.  
  
"LADY Phillips? That would make you her daughter, Sarah, right?" The guard asked nervously.  
  
Sarah smiled and nodded smugly.  
  
"Yes, that's right. And I would suggest you supply me with some paper to write to her about this atrocity," Sarah said matter-of-factly.  
  
The guard nodded, paler than before, and produced some paper, ink, and a quill from his uniform. Sarah began to write to her mother. She told her that she was in prison and to bail her out. She then shut the letter, James trying to peek. She gave the guard her mother's address in London and the letter. The guard nodded and worriedly backed out of the cell.  
  
James gave Sarah a look.  
  
"Who IS your mother?" James asked rhetorically.  
  
Sarah rolled her eyes.  
  
"You'll see when she comes to get us, James," Sarah exclaimed.  
  
James shrugged and looked for something to do. He found nothing, so his eyes flickered over to Sarah, who was picking straw out of her hair.  
  
"Sarah?" James asked softly.  
  
Sarah turned around.  
  
"Yes, James?" Sarah replied.  
  
James bit his lip.  
  
"Have you," James began, "Ever been engaged?"  
  
Sarah's eyes widened.  
  
"Now, James, why on Earth would you ask a question like that?" Sarah questioned, shocked.  
  
James smirked.  
  
"I'm a reporter, it's my job to ask questions," James replied.  
  
Sarah shook her head.  
  
"No, surprisingly not. Mother never found a suitable man for me to wed. She did like Benedict Arnold an awful lot, though," Sarah said quietly.  
  
James shuddered at the mention of the turncoat. James stared silently out of the barred window.  
  
"James, what about you? Have you been engaged?" Sarah spoke.  
  
James snapped out of his reverie and turned to face her. He shook his head.  
  
"Not really. A year before you came here, this girl named Charity Williams was obsessed with me. Of course, I moved into Dr. Franklin's and I haven't seen her since. She used to say that'd we'd get married and such. It was terrible," James confessed.  
  
Sarah started laughing and a figure obscured the sunlight that came from the barred window. James looked up and leapt back.  
  
"Charity? What are you doing here?" James asked, horrified.  
  
- Loren ;* 


	3. There's Something About Charity

Okay, this chapter's kind of short too. But whatever. And Charity doesn't slap James (she's all over him though. It's sickening. Like this girl on Pokemon today... But I am so not going there). However, Sarah hits him upside the head. Which is ten times more fun, trust me. And Charity's a southern belle-ish person. And see, the next two chapters will have other people in it and yeah.  
  
Charity gasped.  
  
"James, darling! Whatever are you doing in that jail with that redhead?" Charity asked with a thick Southern accent.  
  
James winced and Sarah knew she had to do something. She winked at James, who swallowed.  
  
"Oh, we were in some bushes and we were "entertaining" ourselves. However, we didn't know that it was a British camp. They caught us and threw us in here," Sarah lied.  
  
James raised his eyebrows. Charity gasped.  
  
"James, dear? Is this true?" Charity asked, stunned.  
  
Sarah shot a James a look and he licked his lips.  
  
"Yes, Charity," James grunted.  
  
Charity clapped a hand to her mouth.  
  
"Why James! That hussy over there has stolen your virtue!" Charity shrieked.  
  
Sarah flushed the color of her hair and James was the color of a cherry.  
  
"More like the other way around," Sarah whispered, loud enough for Charity to hear.  
  
Charity glared nastily at her and Sarah glared back. Sarah turned to James, who she embraced tightly. She tackled him and they landed on the straw. Charity frowned at the scene before her and cleared her throat. They ignored her.  
  
"You're a great actor," Sarah whispered, impressed.  
  
From Charity's window view, she could see little. So, to her, it looked like they were kissing while they weren't. James smiled.  
  
"You too," He hissed.  
  
Sarah smiled. Charity cleared her throat.  
  
"James, I could get you out of that prison," Charity offered.  
  
James looked up.  
  
"Really?" James exclaimed.  
  
Charity batted her eyebrows and nodded.  
  
"What about Sarah? Can she come too?" James asked thoughtfully.  
  
Charity glared and shook her head no. James looked at Sarah and then back at Charity.  
  
"No. If she can't go, then I can't go!" James yelled.  
  
Charity stuck her nose in the air.  
  
"Fine, James! Make a stupid decision for that tramp! I'm leaving!" Charity huffed.  
  
James smirked.  
  
"GOOD!" James hollered after her.  
  
Sarah stared at the boy she knew so well in awe. Then she came to her senses and slapped him upside the head.  
  
"James Hiller! You had the chance to escape and yet you did not. And for me, of all people! Where are your brains?" Sarah yelled.  
  
James frowned and rubbed his head.  
  
"Is this what happens when I'm nice to you?" James whined.  
  
Sarah silenced him with a vicious glare. James moaned and looked out the window longingly, wishing for freedom. Sarah looked at him and tapped his shoulder. James turned around, expecting another of their great arguments. He was met instead, however, with a huge hug. James was very surprised.  
  
"No one has ever done such a sweet thing for me! Thank you, James!" Sarah said happily, hugging the air out of him.  
  
James choked and she moved back. He nodded and rubbed his neck.  
  
- Loren ;* 


	4. Philadelphia

Okay, there's no Sarah and James in this chapter. And it's short. But still... I really like it when people review. And there's another chapter after this one... There really oughtta be a Liberty's Kids category. Really. I mean, I'm sure there's more LK fics than Starla and the Jewel Riders ones... Right? Anyways, more people should write LK fics. Or update them... *coughcough*  
  
Meanwhile, in Philadelphia, Moses was working the printing press. Henri ran into the room, yanking on Moses' jacket.  
  
"Moses! Moses! I have found Sarah and James!" Henri squealed.  
  
Moses raised his eyebrows.  
  
"Oh, really, Henri? Are they married?" Moses asked suspiciously.  
  
Henri gave him a look and jumped atop the printing press.  
  
"No. They are in jail, though," Henri replied calmly.  
  
Moses rolled his eyes and sighed.  
  
"It was either one or the other," Moses grunted.  
  
Henri nodded, confused. Moses stopped printing and walked into the kitchen. Henri jumped off the printing press and ran into the kitchen. He looked up at the ceiling and saw a tasty chicken hanging from it. He began to drool and jumped up, trying to grab it. Moses saw this and scowled.  
  
Moses threw him an apple and Henri frowned. Seconds later, he shrugged and ate it anyways. Moses threw his hands in the air and walked into the sitting room, ransacking the desk's drawers, searching for money. Henri aimed a quizzical look at him.  
  
"They need to be bailed out. Therefore, I need money," Moses mumbled.  
  
Henri nodded and rocked on the balls of his feet.  
  
"Shouldn't we write a letter to Doctor Franklin of this? He will be alarmed when he sees we have no good articles in the paper," Henri said thickly.  
  
Moses frowned.  
  
"You're right, Henri. Let's not do that now, though," Moses grumbled.  
  
Henri nodded, slightly confused.  
  
"Wouldn't that be lying?" Henri asked innocently.  
  
Moses glared at Henri.  
  
"No. We just won't tell him that they're in jail. What he doesn't know won't make his gout act up," Moses replied sneakily.  
  
Henri looked at him suspiciously. Moses sighed.  
  
"You go back and ask them to write about their experience. We need SOMETHING to put in the paper," Moses snapped.  
  
Henri nodded, grabbed an inkwell and two quills and left. Moses grunted and moved into the next room. Seconds later, Henri came back.  
  
"Monsieur, can I have some food? It is a long journey to Boston and I have an empty stomach!" Henri pleaded.  
  
Moses gave him a look.  
  
"Henri, you had five pastries, five apples, and a large amount of other food. I can't give you more," Moses said exasperatedly.  
  
Henri pouted and his stomach growled. Moses rolled his eyes.  
  
"Fine, Henri. Take it. But you need to get there really fast. And here's some money," Moses gave in, handing Henri a chicken leg.  
  
Henri smiled and took the food and the money. He left the city, running. Moses kneeled down, shaking his head.  
  
"Those children," He sighed.  
  
- Loren ;*  
  
Now, what have we learned? REVIEW, UPDATE, and something else... YAY! You paid attention! 


	5. Woman, Interrupted

This chapter's even shorter, but vital to my plot. When I started writing this chapter, which is so short I'm surprised I'm calling it that because it's just four-sorry, FIVE, paragraphs long. That sentence was grammatically fragile, if I flicked it, it'd fall apart... So, I don't think Mrs. Phillips is like this, or that her name's Elizabeth, but whatever.  
  
Lady Phillips looked through her daughter's letter, growing more and more agitated with each word. As her eyes read the last word, she took the note and threw it in the air. She clapped her hands and a servant walked up to her. She glared at the servant for no reason whatsoever.  
  
"Pack my bags. Fast. I'm going to America," Lady Phillips snapped.  
  
The servant nodded nervously. She dismissed the poor girl with a wave of her hand and the servant shot off like a bullet. Her daughter was in jail with an American ruffian. A BRITISH jail, of all places. Ben Franklin was wrong. The colonies were not safe for her daughter.  
  
Her servant raced into the room with a sloppily packed bag. Lady Phillips smiled falsely. She nodded and leapt into a coach for the nearest harbor. She bought a ticket for New York as soon as possible and climbed onboard the ship.  
  
Her daughter was in prison with some rebel. Elizabeth Phillips sighed, gazing out at the Atlantic Ocean. People would most certainly pay for this. Starting with that American rebel. Ending with the guards surrounding her daughter. Her eyes were steely as she plotted revenge.  
  
- Loren ;*  
  
Read! Review! Update! 


	6. She Gives Them Something to Talk About

Okay, Liberty's Kids is not mine. However, Mary is. Jonathan Edwards was a real guy (I think he signed the Declaration of Independence). The last time I had the Revolutionary War was in 5th grade... Man, that was a killer year. Anyways, Mrs. Phillips won't be showing up for a while. But she will show up, and, P.I.D., she'll definitely slap James... *giggles*  
  
Sarah paced around the small jail cell. The door clanked open and a girl was thrown in the cell with them. She had shoulder-length dark brown hair and brown eyes. Her dress was red, ragged, and dirty. Her hair was up in a high bun, with loose strands coming from it and frizzing out around her head. She scowled up the guard, who slammed the door behind her. She hit the floor with a bump, shaking a fist at the guard. She rubbed her head and scowled.  
  
She stood shakily and turned around to wind up nose-to-nose with James. Her eyes widened and she backed up.  
  
"Watch it! Anyways, I'm Mary Edwards, who are you?" The firecracker snapped.  
  
Sarah stood up, outstretching a hand. However, James beat her to the punch. He reached out and grabbed her hand, kissing it. Mary blushed and Sarah rolled her eyes.  
  
"James Hiller. It's a pleasure to meet a beautiful girl such as yourself," James said, star-struck.  
  
A smile strung across Mary's face. She amusedly withdrew her hand from James, which was difficult. She turned to Sarah.  
  
"I'm Sarah Phillips," Sarah explained.  
  
Mary nodded interestedly and sat down on the straw. Sarah and James followed suit.  
  
"So, what're you two in for?" Mary shot.  
  
James beamed.  
  
"I yelled DIE, Redcoats, DIE in a British camp," James responded, cockily.  
  
Mary laughed. Her eyes focused on Sarah.  
  
"I, unfortunately, was with him. We were in the bushes, so the soldiers didn't take too kindly to our unneeded presence," Sarah responded, annoyed.  
  
James glared at her.  
  
"You know, you didn't exactly help. What, with the incriminating me and all that blabbering about Britain," James snapped.  
  
Sarah glared back.  
  
"Well, excuse me for being loyal to the crown like a proper British citizen!" Sarah snapped.  
  
James rolled his eyes. Mary smirked.  
  
"So, I might as well start calling you Tory, then?" Mary replied saucily.  
  
James laughed. Sarah sighed and sunk into the straw. Mary turned to face her, putting a hand on her shoulder.  
  
"Nah, it's cool. But, you should really consider the name. It suits you," Mary grinned.  
  
Sarah smiled calmly.  
  
"Well, you have a very... interesting opinion. I'll definitely consider it," Sarah replied, fighting back the annoyance she felt.  
  
Mary smirked again. James was staring at her. She blushed under his gaze.  
  
"Where are you from?" James asked, breathless.  
  
Mary smiled.  
  
"Massachusetts. My father's one of the delegates to Congress. You heard of him? Jonathan Edwards," Mary answered.  
  
James nodded enthusiastically.  
  
"Isn't he a minuteman?" James asked curiously.  
  
Mary smiled.  
  
"Yep. He was a major campaigner for starting and funding an army. Still is. He's also a very well known pastor around home," Mary responded.  
  
James nodded, absorbing the information. Sarah turned sharply to Mary.  
  
"You say your father is a Christian man then? How on Earth can he condone the rebels' treatment of the British soldiers?" Sarah replied sharply.  
  
Mary smirked, crossing her arms over her chest.  
  
"My father doesn't like violence. But what the Patriots are doing is a necessity. We cannot be imprisoned and smothered by a meaningless island thousands of miles away! We must fight for our fundamental right of liberty! It is not our fault that the Redcoats have chosen to fight for the wrong side in this war," Mary countered.  
  
Sarah stood up in a huff, hands in the air.  
  
"How can you say that? The rebels are LOSING the war! And I'm British! You're British too!" Sarah hissed.  
  
James and Mary glared at her. Mary rose to her feet. James made a move as if to get up, but Mary motioned for him to sit back down. Her eyes flashed.  
  
"We're not losing. And I'm an AMERICAN. Sarah, the British have already made the one fatal mistake, underestimating your enemy and overestimating yourself! And believe me, no one fights as hard as a people desperate for the freedom they have never had. We have had to carve a country out of this land, something that cannot be said for you British. The work has made us strong and shrewd. The rules of war, I'm afraid, do not apply to this. The British have had everything handed to them and they're sitting there, George and all, fattening up, an ocean away, safe! This war, I promise you, will mark the end of an era!" Mary snapped.  
  
James' eyes were bright and he rose to his feet happily.  
  
"That is the most passionate speech I've ever heard! Wait, why am I just sitting here, gaping? I should be writing this down!" James said, awestruck.  
  
He pulled out his pencil and pad of paper and began jotting Mary's words down. Sarah turned her back to the people she was stranded with, angry. Mary rolled her eyes.  
  
"So, where are you from, James?" Mary said calmly.  
  
James looked up from his writing.  
  
"I was born in Maryland. But I live in Philadelphia," James said quietly.  
  
Mary nodded.  
  
"What do you do?" Mary asked curiously.  
  
"I'm a reporter for Benjamin Franklin's Pennsylvania Gazette. Sarah too. How about you?" James replied distractedly, writing furiously.  
  
Mary grinned.  
  
"Me? Well, I'll tell you later, James," Mary whispered mysteriously.  
  
Sarah sunk farther into the straw. She closed her eyes, beginning to fall asleep.  
  
"James, I'm a spy. Truth is, I've been in cells like this before. It's really rather nice, for a British rathole," Mary murmured, barely loud enough for James and a half-asleep Sarah to hear.  
  
James eyes grew wide.  
  
"Your parents must be worried," James exclaimed.  
  
Mary smirked.  
  
"Yeah. I'm sure Dad doesn't like me in such squalor, eating gruel and moldy bread. Mom definitely doesn't approve, but there's not much she can do about it. I mean, even a loyal British subject gets tired of catering to a horde of soldiers' every whims," Mary replied, shrugging.  
  
James nodded and Sarah was just drifting off to sleep when a familiar voice punctuated the air.  
  
- Loren ;*  
  
REVIEW! 


	7. James' Angels

I assure you, Mary won't be all sickeningly perfect. I can't assure you that James won't fall for Mary, but she DEFINITELY won't fall for him and Sarah'll be there the whole time. And Mrs. Phillips will take her sweet time getting there. Bwahahahaha! Can't say if it'd be S/J or not, that'd be giving too much away... Yeah, I know I'm evil. Not much time from the homework anyways.  
  
It was Henri, looking down at them in the twilight. James smiled and Sarah opened her eyes, yawning.  
  
"Sarah! James! Is good to see you, non, mon amies?" Henri said happily.  
  
Mary rose to her feet. In a fluid motion, her hand closed over his mouth.  
  
"Shh! There's British soldiers all about. You'll get us in trouble!" Mary hissed, uncovering Henri's mouth.  
  
Henri glared at her.  
  
"De fille be crazy," Henri said under his breath.  
  
Mary shot him a dirty look. She silently walked up to the gate and peeked through the bars.  
  
"What's wrong wit' her?" Henri asked, in a hushed tone.  
  
James shrugged and turned to gaze at her longingly. Sarah rolled her eyes and sighed. Her eyes met Henri's, full of anger and annoyance.  
  
"Everything," Sarah snapped.  
  
James nor Mary heard it and her comment had Henri puzzled. Sarah didn't seem to like the weird girl a lot. Which was weird, because the only person Sarah had trouble getting along with was James. Hmm. Maybe he was on to something here. Nah.  
  
Mary smirked, pulled a pin out of her dress, and picked the lock. James eyes were wide, but Mary threw him a look as she quietly slipped through it.  
  
"Don't worry, I'll be back," Mary whispered coyly.  
  
James nodded dumbly and Sarah frowned. Mary walked quietly down the hallway, returning later with food and supplies. She re-locked the door and came in the cell. She set the three blankets on the floor and began making soup with chicken, spices, water, and vegetables. She poured them each a bowl and set up the blankets on the straw.  
  
The hungry youths finished the entire bowl, smiling. Even Sarah was happy, for Mary had told her that she could bathe in peace in a certain area of the camp. Also because of the fact that she had gotten decent food. Henri had delivered Moses' message and the paper. Both Sarah and James were writing furiously about their experience.  
  
Henri had long since left and Mary was staring out the window hopelessly. Sarah continued writing, but ended up asleep during the middle of a sentence. James took her quill, inkwell, and paper away from her. He then covered her with a blanket and blew out the candle. He placed a hand on Mary's shoulder.  
  
She was crying.  
  
"What's wrong?" James asked, concerned.  
  
She wiped furiously at her eyes.  
  
"N-nothing. You and Sarah just remind me of things I don't want to remember," Mary mumbled, tears dripping off her face.  
  
James was confused, but he patted her on the back. He had no clue what to say to this.  
  
"Why am I always the third wheel?" Mary murmured sadly.  
  
James looked at her, feeling worried, confused, and a thousand other emotions he couldn't classify.  
  
"Huh? What did you say?" James questioned.  
  
Mary sighed and shook her head.  
  
"It was nothing," Mary said dully.  
  
Mary pushed James away and curled up under the blanket. James looked at her curiously. Whatever that was, it was not nothing. That he was sure of. James shrugged, he wasn't going to figure out a thing today. He might as well get some sleep before the guards roughed him up tomorrow morning.  
  
- Loren ;*  
  
REVIEW! Hehe. Please? 


	8. The Patriot

Mary is a Mary Sue, in a way, I guess. After all, her name is Mary, right? Lol. Anyways, and I accept that. This chapter's, interesting. There's S/Jness. And it's wrong to own people, it's like slavery. For example, Sarah and James. You can't own people. I mean, they're cartoon people, but they still have voices, and looks, and personalities. Yeah, Sarah and James and Henri and Moses aren't mine. It was so obvious, wasn't it? I own Lord Windchaster and Mary, though. Mary's not gonna die.  
  
Well, she is a spy, so she's kind of asking for it. But, who knows? Oh, and they didn't escape because James didn't know how AND he has to cover his story, Mary needs to eavesdrop on the Redcoats, Sarah would think it's wrong, and then there's the fact that her mom's coming from overseas. And also, there are guards outside. And they're in New York, because it would be kind of stupid if Mary got caught for spying in her own homestate and New York's way closer to Philadelphia anyways.  
  
And it takes away from homework, but I don't care because our teachers are morons. Really. And Bookworm235, you should start writing. We TOTALLY need some new Liberty's Kids fics. And a category would be REALLY nice, HINT, HINT. And if anyone ever feels like bothering me, I have an AIM account. Because I'm special and this chapter is really long. And I'm rambling, Lorelai style, which is scary. But, I'm used to it.  
  
Have I mentioned that I like reviews?  
  
James was awoken way too early the next morning. He was still bleary-eyed as the guards dragged him along the cobblestone floor. He was so tired that he didn't even notice that Mary and Sarah were both worried out of their minds.  
  
He finally awoke when his head hit a large stone and he looked up at his captors. They picked him up, him struggling futilely all the way. The two guards dropped him on a stone table in the middle of the room and left, locking the door behind them.  
  
A creepy man stepped out of the shadows. He was short, with greasy white hair tied up in a ponytail. He had eerie gray eyes and wore bifocals. Not only that, but he was wearing a very fancy outfit and was extremely overweight. He grinned evilly and James shivered. The guards had tied him to the table and he could hardly move.  
  
He pulled out some odd-looking tools and approached James. James, in spite of himself, was worried. The man pulled out a whip and turned James over. He thought for a moment and called to the guards.  
  
The men charged in, untied James, and tied his arms and legs to the table. The man cut James shirt off and James scowled.  
  
"Hey! That was my last shirt!" James yelled.  
  
The man glared at James.  
  
"Hello, Little Boy. I am Lord Windchaster, your worst nightmare," Lord Windchaster sneered.  
  
James struggled against his bonds.  
  
"You got that right. Eat a breathmint! And while I'm at it, get a life, lose some weight, and wash your hair! Oh, and watch who you're calling little; I'm taller than you!" James retorted.  
  
The man scowled and whipped James.  
  
"You'll pay for that, boy," Lord Windchaster hissed.  
  
James winced from the impact and bit his lip to keep from screaming out in pain. Lord Winchaster smiled and continued whipping James. Angry red welts popped up on James pale back and he was biting his lip so hard it drew blood.  
  
"What were you doing in our camp?" Windchaster snapped.  
  
James scowled, wincing at the whip slashing across his skin.  
  
"I-I work FOR Ben Franklin's PENNSYLVANIA Gazette. I was WORKING at the TIME!" James replied, occasionally screaming out in pain.  
  
The sadistic torturer smiled evilly.  
  
"Wrong thing to say, boy," Windchaster sneered, hitting him harder with the whip.  
  
"Yes, I'm sure that's what happened," Windchaster continued sarcastically.  
  
He scowled and produced a hammer. James' back tensed in anticipation.  
  
"Tell me what you were really doing there," Windchaster said, deathly serious.  
  
He then proceeded to hit James on the back hard with a hammer. Again and again. James' screams echoed through the air, worrying Sarah and Mary to near tears.  
  
"I'll beat you until you're screaming my name, begging me to stop," Windchaster said, in a tone that nearly made James throw up.  
  
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I don't go that way. AAAAAAAAAAUUUGH!" James hollered.  
  
Mary sighed, annoyed. She wanted these stupid guards to move down the hall. Lord Arvin Windchaster dropped the hammer and picked up a burning candle. James' back was covered in red welts, red skin turning into bruises, blood dripping everywhere. Arvin moved the candle over James' back, dripping hot wax unto James' back.  
  
James moaned in pain.  
  
"Why're you tormenting me? I don't know anything!" James screamed.  
  
"Major Phillips' orders," Arvin replied creepily.  
  
Finally, Mary could take it no more. She picked up the bowl that she had made soup in the night before and chucked it down the hall. The guard got up to check it out and she seized her chance, slipping through the bars and running down the hallway. She pulled the pin out of her dress and picked the lock quickly.  
  
Before the guard came back, she was inside the room. Sarah was shocked, wondering what the younger girl was up to.  
  
Mary glared menacingly at Lord Windchaster, hands on her hips.  
  
"Get away from him, idiot!" Mary snapped angrily.  
  
Windchaster laughed. Mary shook her head, scowling.  
  
"You'll pay for that," Mary said evilly.  
  
She removed a knife and rope from her dress. Mary had Windchaster hogtied in a corner within seconds. She slashed away at James' bindings and pulled him up, fleeing from the room. She opened the cell and leapt inside, slamming the cell door shut. James flopped unto the straw and Sarah and Mary began to work on him. Mary picked the lock again, running out to get some water and medicine.  
  
Mary returned.  
  
"You take care of him. I don't know much about first aid. Really," Mary begged Sarah.  
  
Sarah nodded.  
  
"The best I can, but, er, that's not much. Maybe we should get him to a doctor," Sarah suggested.  
  
Mary nodded furiously. James moaned, semi-conscious.  
  
"James? Are you all right?" Sarah asked worriedly.  
  
James wearily opened his eyes.  
  
"Do YOU think I'm alright? I've been whipped, smacked around with a hammer, and had hot wax dripped on my back. Yeah, Sarah, I'm just peachy," James snapped sarcastically.  
  
Sarah glared at him.  
  
"James, is it wrong for me to show a little concern for your well-being? You don't have to be so sarcastic about it," Sarah retorted.  
  
Mary smirked.  
  
"Oh, Sarah, can't you see that that's the only way he knows how to deal with your undying affection?" Mary cracked.  
  
Sarah shot her a dirty look. James looked up, sweating, at Mary.  
  
"And you think I'm delirious?" James replied smartly.  
  
Mary rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.  
  
"I'm just stating the truth. Actually, I'm surprised that you didn't make a crack about her Britishness. You always seem to use that as an excuse. And, anyways, it's not like she denied it," Mary pointed out.  
  
Sarah flushed.  
  
"That is absolutely preposterous! I cannot believe that you would think that I actually see something in that little... REBEL!" Sarah exclaimed.  
  
Mary shook her head and sighed.  
  
"She's right, you know," James nodded.  
  
"Okay, uh, can you carry him, Sarah?" Mary asked.  
  
Sarah shook her head.  
  
"Do I look it?" Sarah replied calmly.  
  
Mary nodded thoughtfully.  
  
"You know what, you're right. I'll just find a cart and ship him out of here," Mary replied calmly.  
  
James looked up tiredly at them.  
  
"Sarah, your Dad's trying to kill me," James said bluntly.  
  
Both Sarah and Mary stared at James.  
  
"He's definitely delusional. You better hurry up with that cart," Sarah replied matter-of-factly.  
  
Mary nodded and slipped out the door again. She arrived, seconds later, with a wheelbarrow. She sighed and put her arm around James, helping him to stand up. She dragged him to the cart and he tried to kiss her. Mary's eyes widened and she pushed James off of her. He landed on Sarah. Sarah gently pushed him off her, because his lips had surprisingly hit their mark.  
  
"What WAS that? Don't EVER do that again!" Mary screamed.  
  
She smirked at Sarah, who was looking very startled. Sarah smiled a strained smile.  
  
"Well, I guess you HAVEN'T suffered enough at the hands of the British," Sarah said, shocked.  
  
Mary giggled and James looked up, rubbing his head.  
  
"What happened? I feel like a coach ran over me," James groaned.  
  
Mary smirked and Sarah flushed.  
  
"Well, Sailor, you kissed Sarah," Mary grunted, grinning.  
  
Sarah blushed the color of her hair and James' eyes widened.  
  
"WHAT did I do?" James asked, horrified.  
  
Mary grinned and Sarah shivered. Sarah pointed accusingly at Mary.  
  
"Well, you were trying for HER!" Sarah said accusingly.  
  
Mary smirked.  
  
"Oh great, now I have to take a bath! I kissed a-a-a TORY!" James yelled, alarmed.  
  
Mary laughed for a good five minutes and James kept looking from Mary to Sarah and back. Mary rolled her eyes.  
  
"Come on, James. We're going to the doctor with you," Mary ordered, dragging James into the cart.  
  
- Loren ;*  
  
REVIEW? Please? 


	9. Revolutionary Wars: Attack of the Clones

I know how you feel. English teachers seem to enjoy doing this. You're welcome. It's stupid to do what everyone else does. That's just restricting our creative freedom, trying to make us conform to what everyone else does. There should DEFINITELY be variety. Course, half the time, I don't see what we really are supposed to learn in school. You should TOTALLY upload your stories. I mean, if you can't express your talents at school, why not here.  
  
Lol...Thanks guys. I love your reviews. Sorry about the not updating thing. Me=Very busy.  
  
James sighed under the blanket in the cart. Mary pushed him past the guards and briskly left the building. The guards started firing at them. Mary's eyes widened as a bullet stuck in her shoulder. She threw the blanket at the guards and pulled James out of the cart. The guards fired at him, but Mary pushed him out of the way, getting a bullet in the arm. She took James' arm and ran for an alleyway. The guards were following them, but she threw open a door to a house and slipped inside. The guards passed the house and she exhaled.  
  
A man walked into the room with blue eyes and blonde hair. An orange-haired woman with green eyes followed nervously. Mary hugged the couple stiffly. James looked up questioning.  
  
"James, these are my friends, Dr. Potter and Dr. Hall. They'll help fix us up. Now, if you excuse me, I need to faint," Mary said, collapsing.  
  
The woman walked over to the barely conscious James. She looked to the man behind her.  
  
"You take Mary and I'll do him," The woman said, pulling supplies from her bag.  
  
The man nodded and picked up Mary.  
  
"Because we all know I'm the better surgeon," He said cockily.  
  
She rolled her eyes. James looked up to them.  
  
"Who are you?" James asked curiously.  
  
The two smiled at him.  
  
"I'm Sadie Potter and the cocky gentleman over there's Jamie Hall," Sadie replied calmly.  
  
She pushed James down.  
  
"You need to rest. I think you're getting a nasty infection, judging by the fever you have," Sadie said urgently.  
  
Jamie left with Mary, nearly running. If he hurried, he could get both bullets out and clean the wounds within twenty-four hours. Sadie felt James' burning forehead, alarmed.  
  
She grabbed a wet cloth, which she set on his forehead. Sadie turned him on his back and gasped. She quietly began removing the clumps of dried wax and using another wet cloth, cleaned his back, hoping that she was killing the infection. She bandaged it, biting her lip. What had they done to this poor boy? She would have to ask Mary when she was awake.  
  
Meanwhile, Sarah bit her nails in the cell. She had heard the gunshots outside when James and Mary left. Were they dead? She didn't know. The guards weren't telling her anything and it was so cold in this cell. Her mom was on a boat crossing the Atlantic, her father was still in Ohio, Moses was in Boston, Dr. Franklin was in France, and Henri was somewhere on the road. Oh, who was she kidding? James was dead. He had to be.  
  
Now she understood why those Americans were so angry about that Boston Massacre. Their friends had died. And now hers had too. She let herself get lost in her grief, crying into the blanket.  
  
A guard peeked down the hallway. He charged into a scarred Windchaster's office.  
  
"You didn't tell me she was going to get hurt," Sam snarled.  
  
Lord Windchaster scowled.  
  
"She hasn't been," Arvin replied gloomily.  
  
Sam glared at Lord Windchaster.  
  
"Then why is my sister sitting, ALONE, in that cold cell, crying her eyes out?" Samuel Phillips, Sarah's older brother snapped.  
  
Lord Windchaster shrugged.  
  
"We shot the rebel and that spy. The cell blocks do have windows and watching things like that shooting have got to be upsetting. She'll get over it," Lord Windchaster grunted boredly.  
  
Sam's eyes widened and he ran a hand through his hair.  
  
"Oh no. Please tell me you did not say rebel," Sam pleaded, worried.  
  
Lord Windchaster frowned.  
  
"I did," Lord Winchaster sneered.  
  
Sam bit his lip.  
  
"Did the boy have blonde hair and blue eyes? Goes by the name of James?" Sam asked nervously.  
  
Lord Windchaster frowned and nodded. Sam ran a hand through his hair and ran out of the room.  
  
"This is not good," Sam mumbled as he opened the door to Sarah's cell.  
  
She was sitting there on the floor, crying so hard she didn't notice him. He placed a hand on her shoulder and her head turned so fast that it was nearly supersonic.  
  
"What? Have you come to kill me like you killed James?" Sarah spat.  
  
It took her approximately three seconds to realize that her big brother was the guard. She furiously wiped at her eyes, a puzzled look in them.  
  
"Samuel? What are you doing here?" Sarah asked in wonder.  
  
Sam grinned.  
  
"Well, for one thing, your friend James could still be alive," Sam responded calmly.  
  
Sarah's eyes widened.  
  
"Are you serious?" Sarah asked hopefully.  
  
Sam nodded, smirking.  
  
"You're in love with him, aren't you?" Sam asked bluntly.  
  
Sarah's eyes widened.  
  
"No! Whatever would give you that impression?" Sarah gasped.  
  
Sam rolled his eyes.  
  
"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," Sam countered.  
  
Sarah glared at him, huffing.  
  
"So you believe that just because I'm upset, I love James? Have you met James? He is quite possibly THE most OBNOXIOUS boy on Earth. However, he was the first person I met in America. And he is my best friend. I think we'd all be sad if our best friend died right before our eyes," Sarah responded coolly.  
  
Sam shrugged.  
  
"Whatever you say, Sarah," Sam muttered.  
  
Sarah shot him a look.  
  
"We should go find them," Sarah said promptly.  
  
Sam sighed.  
  
"Hold your horses. I have to tell you something important," Sam replied.  
  
Sarah stood still. Sam sighed.  
  
"When Mother found out that you were in jail, she was very angry. She called in a few favors and transferred me here. She also apparently called your friend in for torture. I tried to reason with her, but it didn't work. She's still not pleased," Sam stated seriously.  
  
Sarah's eyes widened and she gasped.  
  
"Mother would do such a thing? I cannot believe it!" Sarah exclaimed.  
  
Sam nodded, sighing again. He grabbed his sister's arm and ran out of the jail.  
  
"Now, c'mon, we've got to find your friends!" Sam yelled.  
  
They ran down an alley, Sam opening doors left and right.  
  
"James! Where are you?" The siblings yelled.  
  
Finally, a man came to one of the doors. He was wiping his hands with a rag. He was tall, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and his name was James, so naturally, Sarah thought he was James. She hugged him and he was confused. He broke the hug.  
  
"Sadie? But I thought you were inside, working on that kid?" Jamie questioned.  
  
Sarah gave him a weird look.  
  
"I prefer Sarah. You're not James!" Sarah replied, suspicious.  
  
Jamie gave her a weird look.  
  
"Sorry, you look an awful lot like my friend Sadie. And I'm Jamie Hall. Who're you?" Jamie asked, nervous.  
  
Sarah bit her lip, peeking inside the house.  
  
"Sam and Sarah Phillips. We're looking for her friend, James Hiller. He looks a lot like you, blonde, tall, fourteen, blue eyes. Have you seen him?" Sam asked.  
  
Jamie's brow furrowed. He turned back to the house.  
  
"Sadie? Can you come here for a second?" Jamie begged.  
  
"Yes, I'll be right there," Sadie replied, getting up.  
  
She appeared next to Jamie. Sam's eyes went from Sadie to Sarah and back again. He turned to Sarah.  
  
"Are we related? Because Sadie looks a lot like you, Sarah," Sam asked his sister.  
  
Sadie and Sarah glared at Sam. Jamie shook his head and sighed.  
  
"He's right. Sadie, what's the name of the kid you're working on?" Jamie remarked, laughing.  
  
Sadie rolled her eyes at him and put her hands on her hips.  
  
"Honestly, I'm surprised you don't remember. Mary came in here, looking a fright. She introduced us to her friend, James, by the way. Then she fainted, as any person with gun shot wounds that bad would. And, Jamie, you know the rest," Sadie explained, annoyed.  
  
Sadie had an accent almost exactly like Sarah's. Jamie nodded and Sarah paled.  
  
"Um, is the boy you're working on, uh, Sadie, shot too?" Sarah asked nervously, biting her nails again.  
  
Sadie shook her head.  
  
"No, but he has a nasty fever. I believe it's the result of an infection. When he came here, his back was bloody, with open sores. There's severe bruising and clumps of wax were on his back. I'm sure he'll be fine. Eventually," Sadie replied quietly.  
  
Sarah smiled and ran inside. She spotted James on the floor within moments. She dropped to her knees and kissed every part of his face. Sam stared amusingly on and Jamie snuck a glimpse at Sadie.  
  
"Oh my!" Sadie exclaimed.  
  
Jamie started laughing hysterically. Sadie elbowed him hard and he stopped. James, meanwhile, was starting to come to. James' eyes opened slowly and he was bewildered to find Sarah kissing his face. He shot up like a firecracker, shock overwhelming pain.  
  
"SARAH! What in the name of George Washington do you think you're doing?" James cried, alarmed.  
  
Sarah's eyes lit up. She hugged James tightly, who winced. She then kissed him hard. Sam rose his eyebrows and Jamie smirked. Sadie smacked Jamie again. James backed out of the kiss, mouth aghast. His eyes then lit on Sadie. Back and forth from Sadie and Sarah again and again.  
  
"There's two of you?! AHHHHHH!" James screamed.  
  
Sarah smacked him upside the head. James pointed shakily at her.  
  
"You-you... I can't say," James stuttered.  
  
Sarah scowled. James put his hands over his ears.  
  
"When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to their separation."  
  
"We hold these truths-" James ranted.  
  
Jamie shot James a quizzical look.  
  
"Man, what are you doing?" Jamie asked curiously.  
  
James rolled his eyes.  
  
"Stating the Declaration of Independence. It always calms my nerves," James sighed.  
  
Sadie rolled her eyes.  
  
"I thought it sounded familiar," Jamie shrugged.  
  
James rolled his eyes.  
  
"We heard Congress ratify it," James grunted.  
  
Jamie's eyes lit up in glee.  
  
"Really?" He questioned.  
  
James nodded.  
  
"Spangler! Come here a second!" Jamie called.  
  
A small blonde boy with green eyes ran up to Jamie.  
  
"What, Daddy?" Spangler said quietly.  
  
James raised an eyebrow.  
  
"You have a son?" James asked incredulously.  
  
Jamie nodded sadly.  
  
"Yeah. I got married about three years ago. His mother died in a skirmish with the British days after his birth. And I've raised him since," Jamie muttered.  
  
James nodded.  
  
"I know the feeling," James sighed.  
  
Jamie looked quizzically at James.  
  
"My parents died when I was very young in a house fire. Anyways, so, what did you want me to tell the little guy?" James explained.  
  
Jamie grinned.  
  
"Tell him about the Declaration of Independence," Jamie replied calmly.  
  
James grinned and opened his mouth to speak. However, Mary walked into the room at that second, covered in a blanket. She rubbed her eye.  
  
"What happened? My head hurts and so does my arm," Mary whined. 


	10. Mummy Dearest

Oh, for all you Mary-haters (funny words), she's not in this chapter... Then again, no one else is either...  
  
Remember: I don't own Liberty's Kids... Never have, never will...  
  
Here's the chapter. I encourage you to review. It'll get an update faster. Seriously though, it will. Anyways, and ACTION!

Elizabeth Phillips stormed into the jail. Her eyes raked over the cells inside. She could find her daughter in none of them. There was, as a matter of fact, only one occupant, a small brunette French boy. He looked like a beggar, and so, even though he was yipping up at her, she ignored him.  
  
Elizabeth stormed into Lord Windchaster's office. She loathed the man, but he was among the best at what he did. Idly, Elizabeth wondered what had happened, or if he'd tortured Sarah's little friend. She threw open the door boldly.  
  
"Arvin, where is my daughter?" Elizabeth snapped coldly.  
  
Arvin Windchaster looked up, eyes bloodshot and bruised, though his pride was hurt more than anything else. Elizabeth gasped, but after that initial burst of emotion, her face was passively blank.  
  
"She left with your son," Arvin grunted tiredly.  
  
Elizabeth rolled her eyes and sighed.  
  
"You look bloody awful. What happened here anyways?" Elizabeth questioned, slightly curious.  
  
Arvin looked out the window listlessly, saying nothing. Elizabeth scowled, quietly walking over and grabbing his face, propelling it towards her with a sharp jerk. Anger radiated from her in light waves and an intense fire burned in her eyes.  
  
"Tell me, Arvin. You know as well as I do that I get violent when I'm angry," Elizabeth threatened, staring him straight in the eye.  
  
Arvin bit his lip nervously. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words escaped it. He tried again, but to no avail. Finally, on his third try, he began to speak.  
  
"I tortured the boy as you asked, Elizabeth. I didn't get to finish, however, because a spy I had just arrested barged in and tied me up in a few minutes. She rescued the boy and tried to escape with him. However, I believe that the two of them were shot by my soldiers," Arvin explained, stuttering madly.  
  
Elizabeth's eyes grew wide with rage and she shoved him against the wall, scoffing.  
  
"I cannot believe that you were beaten by a mere girl! A man such as yourself. Remind me why I hired you for this post in the first place?" Elizabeth jeered mockingly.  
  
Arvin gulped, then his eyes turned hard and assured.  
  
"Because, Mrs. Phillips, I am the best in my field," Arvin assured her.  
  
Elizabeth's glare intensified. However, the door being thrown open startled them, and Elizabeth dropped Arvin in a heap against the wall. She turned, and her glare softened when she realized it was Samuel. She began to smile, but was interrupted.  
  
"Mother, I cannot believe that you could orchestrate this mess! You're just lucky that Sarah's friend's alive because she was crying her eyes out when she thought he was dead," Samuel yelled at his mother.  
  
This shut Elizabeth up, but she soon found words.  
  
"You do not insult your mother, you hear me, Samuel?" Elizabeth screeched, looking like a petulant child.  
  
Samuel rolled his eyes.  
  
"What are you going to do to me, Mother? Attempt to kill me? Torture me for insubordination? I'm really beginning to see why Americans want liberty so much," Samuel antagonized, eyes glinting with maliciousness.  
  
Elizabeth gasped and slapped him hard across the face.  
  
"I cannot believe you! Is this what the army has done to you?" She snapped, furious.  
  
Samuel shook his head, scowling.  
  
"No, mother, you have done this all by yourself!" Sam muttered angrily.  
  
- Loren ; 


	11. Sibling Meets Sibling

Okay, I don't own LK... But I kind of own Sam and I definitely own Soleil. Sorry it took me so long to update when this chapter is SO short, but yeah.

Sam stormed off, neither looking or caring where he was going. He ran into a girl, and both fell to the ground. Samuel glanced at her for a moment, before getting up and helping her up.

She was tall, clad a ragged green dress that was short and rather loose on her, and her hair was brown and dirty, face smudged with dirt, eyes a hazel that seemed to be green. Her cheeks were sunken in, and she carried a carpetbag with her that was also dirty and stuffed with all of her belongings.

"Miss, I am so sorry. Is there any way I could help you?" Samuel asked, concerned.

The woman looked at him fearfully, nodding slightly. She leaned in close, whispering in his ear.

"Oui, monsieur. I am looking for my brother. Someone in Philadelphia told me he would be here. Could you help me find him? His name is... Well, that is of no matter. It is said that he travels with two... uh, what did that nice homme describe them as? Oh, oui, reporters? Their nommes are Sarah Phillips and James Hiller..." The girl trailed off tiredly.

Sam's eyes widened, and he grabbed her thin wrist.

"Come. I know them. Sarah's my sister. I have not met this brother of yours, but I ensure you that they will know him. Now, we must meet them in the doctor's home. You can bathe there and I assure you that Sadie will feed you. Now, milady, what did you say your name was?" Sam explained quickly.

"Je m'appelle Soleil Marie Reneé Jolie Noëlle Etoile LeFevre. Et toi?" She rambles off in French.

Long name, eh?

"Samuel Timothy Phillips the Second. Pleased to make your acquaintance." He said, whisking her inside the tiny hospital.

- Loren ;

So what do you think of Soleil? Review... You know you wanna...


	12. Cue the Jailhouse Rescue

Okay, this chapter's kind of cool, but really short. I have problems with making these chapters long. But, anyways, in the next chapter Sol and Henri start talking in French...lol... Funny.

Samuel and Soleil raced to the jail, skidding to a stop before the cell in which Henri rested. Samuel used a key to open it, and Soleil slid inside, pulling her brother along. Henri was puzzled as to who this girl was who had freed him, and the man too, but he went along with it. It was either that or torture.

"Come on, before Mother catches us. That woman is merciless. Come, we must hasten!" Exclaimed Sam.

However, he was unfortunate. He ran into his mother.

Elizabeth's eyes raked over the group, Soleil in particular, criticizing and scrutinizing all of them.

She was short, though her posture was as straight as a rod, her flaming red hair curled elegantly atop her head, electric blue eyes burning with fire, skin smooth and ivory white, wearing a creamy blue dress made of exotic silks and laces, gold jewelry circling her narrow wrists and neck.

Soleil was slouched over though still far taller than Lady Phillips, long coffee-colored hair down in knots and tangles, eyes an intense bottle-green, skin a freckled olive, cheeks sunken in, a torn and worn dirty dress loosely hanging on her frail form.

They were so different.

"Samuel! Who is this wench?" Elizabeth barked snootily.

Samuel shot her an angry look.

"I met her less than ten minutes ago, and yet I already like her better than you. How odd," Samuel remarked thoughtfully.

Elizabeth glared daggers at him and grabbed at them. However, Soleil grabbed her little brother and Samuel pushed them forwards, racing himself. They ran as hard and as fast as they could to Jamie's and Sadie's.

- Loren ;

Hope you liked it. Even thought it was terribly short. Review please?


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